Love at First Sight
by dstrekharrylover
Summary: Spock and Christine's first meeting and subsequent adventures through Amok Time.


39

LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT 

**TO:Christine Chapel, Ph.D., R.N.**

**Cleveland General Hospital**

**Cleveland, Ohio**

**North America, Earth**

**FROM:Catherynn Harrison, R.N.**

**Director of Nurses**

**Starfleet Command, Medical Division**

**Earth - Sol System**

Message:

Your application for an assignment as Head Nurse aboard a Federation

starship has been approved. you are hereby assigned to the heavy cruiser

USS Enterprise, NCC-1701, as of stardate 1327.6 at 0800 hours. Your commanding

officers will be Captain James T. Kirk and Commander Spock, his First Officer.

Upon reporting to Captain Kirk, you will report to Dr. Leonard H. McCoy, the

Enterprise's Chief Medical Officer, who will be your immediate superior, to

assume your new duties. Good luck on your new position and best wishes always.

The beeping of her personal computer awakened Christine Chapel from a sound sleep at 0900 hours. She muttered unsavory epithets at being awakened so early on her day off, yawning deeply and stretching before arising to press the button to stop the computer's incessant beeping and go through her mail. She shrugged into her robe and padded barefoot over to the auto-chef, punching in the program for hot coffee. Upon receipt of the hot beverage, she pulled up her desk chair and sat down to read the message on her 'com screen in silence.

It didn't really come as a surprise to Christine that she had been accepted, especially when one considered her impeccable credentials, both in exobiology and nursing... particularly her work with Dr. Roger Korby, a renowned scientist and lecturer who was often called "the Pasteur of archaeological medicine." After a time, the couple began seeing one another and soon fell in love, eventually becoming engaged. Not long afterward, Roger had gone to space and had not been heard from for over five years. Friends and colleagues told Christine that he was most likely dead and that she was wasting her time joining Starfleet in order to search for him. Christine turned a deaf ear to their opinions and advice, convinced that her fiancé was still alive somewhere and waiting for her to find him. She also knew that serving aboard a starship in deep space was the only chance she had of locating him.

The new Head Nurse arrived at the Enterprise's Spacedock mooring at 0730 hours on stardate 1327.6, in full duty uniform with her belongings in one small suitcase which she held in her right hand and a large shoulder bag, the strap of which had been slung over her left shoulder. She set down the suitcase and reached for her new Fleet-issue communicator, calling the Transporter Room to have herself beamed aboard before going straight to the quarters she had been assigned to on Deck Five.

She single-mindedly busied herself getting settled into her new quarters, hanging her calendar which showed the days of the year in stardate and nature scenes from various Federation planets near her work area and personal computer. She had just begun to unpack when she looked at her chronometer and noted that it was time for her to report to the Captain. She used her birthdate as the code for locking and her measurements for unlocking her cabin door, departing for the Captain's office where she had been informed that Captain Kirk and Commander Spock would be waiting to welcome her aboard. Christine wondered if Chief Medical Officer McCoy would also be there. She pressed the buzzer to announce her presence.

"Come," said a mellow baritone voice.

The doors swished open and she stepped through into a small foyer. She stood still for a moment, then looked up to face her new commander. She was taken aback to see that he was younger than she had imagined, as well as strikingly handsome... with sandy hair, twinkling hazel eyes and firm, well-shaped lips. The young man in command gold stood up and reached across his desk to shake her hand; his grip was firm and warm, his smile disarming.

"Welcome aboard the Enterprise. I'm Captain James T. Kirk."

"Lieutenant Christine Chapel, the new Head Nurse," she replied. "It's nice to meet you, Captain."

"I'm sure you will prove a welcome addition, Nurse Chapel. I would now like to introduce you to my second-in-command, Commander Spock."

Christine looked up into a pair of brown velvet eyes so deep that they seemed to beckon her to dive inside them. She could tell at once that the Enterprise's First Officer was not Human, but also that he was not entirely Vulcan. The power of speech seemed to elude her and her knees went weak; she fought to control the sensations washing over her as his eyes remained locked with hers.

"Live long and prosper, Commander Spock."

She raised her right hand and parted her fingers in the Vulcan salute, which she had practiced for weeks prior to this meeting. Spock was momentarily taken aback, but recovered quickly and returned the salute, raising an approving eyebrow.

"Live long and prosper, Nurse Chapel."

Christine felt a shiver shoot through her body upon hearing Spock's deep, rich voice as she looked her superior over with an appreciative eye, noting the upsweep of his brows and elegantly-shaped ears, curving up to end in perfect points. He was tall, slender and well-built, but not overly muscular. His complexion was a greenish-gold and his nose aristocratic, with large nostrils. His lips were perfectly formed, prompting her to speculate on what it would be like to kiss him. She blushed at the thought, having to look away from him. When she caught his eye again, his gaze seemed to read her mind, and she was certain that he knew what she was thinking.

His hair was as dark a brown as one could get without being black, gleaming with gold high- lights. She also noted that it was cut to fit the shape of his head. It looked so soft and silky that her fingers itched to stroke it. Christine clenched and unclenched her fists several times in order to keep from mak- ing a fool of herself in front of her superior officers. When she dared to move again, she looked down at his hands. They seemed to be delicately made, with long, slender fingers—but she knew that looks could be deceiving, for Vulcans were half again as strong as Humans. However, they were also a benevolent, peace-loving people, dedicated to logic and emotional control.

Christine could only imagine what life must be like for Spock, with part of him demanding that he conceal his feelings and the other part demanding that he show them. Even so, it seemed his Vulcan half was dominant and that the Human half had been submerged in it. Despite his emotionless facade, however, she was sure that the Vulcan felt things all too deeply. Christine vowed then and there to be the one to get him to show those feelings, whatever it took—however long it took.

In the meantime, James Kirk's sharp eyes had noted the way the new Head Nurse was looking at his second-in-command. The Captain knew all too well how attractive his Vulcan friend was to women... and that Spock had just won himself a new admirer, whether he had meant to or not. Spock seemed to be unaware of the effect he had on women, treating all the ones he came into contact with on the Enterprise with professionalism and propriety—even though many aboard ship had tried to get him to notice them romantically. None had ever succeeded, either... at least not to Kirk's knowledge.

Christine Chapel was a beautiful woman, nearly as tall and slender as Spock—but nicely rounded in breast and hip, as well as tiny of waist. Her eyes were the color of a summer sky, her eyelashes long, dark and thick despite her blonde hair which was styled in a casual but flattering upsweep. Her nose was finely shaped; her lips were red and looked very kissable. Her voice was low and melodic, particularly when she addressed Spock. Kirk forced the thought from his mind, dwelling instead on fulfilling his duties as Captain of the Enterprise. Captains were not allowed to have a shipboard romance, though First Officers could if they so wished.

Kirk didn't know how he knew, but something told him that this woman was unlike any Spock had ever known before... and he couldn't help picturing them in his mind as a couple. _A strikingly handsome one at that,_ he thought with a smile. Of course, all this was provided that Christine Chapel had tenacity enough to wear the Vulcan down. The Captain's voice brought Christine back to reality.

"I now believe that you should report to Dr. McCoy in Sickbay. You will have time to get further acquainted with everyone later on."

The nurse turned toward the door, forcing herself to tear her gaze away from Spock's. Time enough to figure out a plan of action later. "Yes, sir." She nodded in their direction and took a step toward the door, which automatically swished open for her. She stepped through and was gone. After the doors had closed behind her, Kirk and Spock exchanged quizzical glances.

"Well, what did you think of our new Head Nurse, Spock?" Kirk gave his Vulcan friend a penetrating look.

Spock's lips twisted wryly. "A most... uncommon woman, Captain."

Kirk smiled and nodded his head in agreement. "Indeed she is."

Just how uncommon, neither of them would know for a long time to come... and when they did, Spock would be the likely beneficiary. That is, if he ever allowed himself to unbend enough to let nature take its course.

TWO 

Christine could think of nothing but the intriguing Vulcan as she headed down to Sickbay in the turbolift. It was uncanny how much he reminded her of Roger; both were the best in their respective fields. She knew all too well how attractive Vulcans were, yet it was hard to believe that someone who looked as good as he did could be real. Her instant attraction to Spock had to be due to more than the simple fact that he was half-Human or the fact that he was so much like Roger—but what was it? He had not shown any interest in her when he had looked her over, nor had he undressed her with his eyes, as most men did upon first meeting her. _Not that I'd mind that, of course,_ she thought wickedly. Of course, she hadn't expected him to. No doubt Spock, like others of his father's race, was highly disciplined and would not allow himself to show interest in her, even if he was. Particularly not in front of witnesses.

He would respect and revere women, particularly those he found himself attracted to—though it was unlikely that he would demonstrate it overtly... and she was convinced that there had been at least a few romantic interests in his life. How she envied them! Vulcans did not believe in casual romantic relationships, so he would never lead her on or tell her one thing when he meant another, simply to gain her favor. Of course, it would not be easy to get his attention or make him admit that he had feelings for her (if he did, that is), but Christine had always loved a challenge. Nor was she one to give up easily, intending to use every means at her disposal to earn his friendship. After that, it was only a matter of time until she gained his love. If his Human mother could do it, so could she!

"Deck Seven," the computer's bland feminine voice announced.

Christine stepped off and headed for Sickbay, oblivious to the double-takes of the male crew- members. She wasn't interested in anything but locating Roger... but even if she failed to find him, she had bigger game in mind—and would do everything in her power to get him. She shivered at the thought of how Spock's hands might feel on her body, or how his body might feel close to hers. In spite of their denial of their emotions, Vulcans had to be sexy as hell. She could tell that just by looking at them.

Christine arrived at Sickbay within moments, automatically going in search of Chief Surgeon McCoy. It was busy and bustling; she could tell that they were preparing for the crew's annual physicals. Which reminded her, she was also supposed to have one before assuming her new duties. She walked up to a tall, slender dark-haired Human male in a short-sleeved blue doctor's smock with black pants and boots calibrating a diagnostic bed, waiting patiently until he finished before speaking.

"Excuse me. Could you tell me where I may find Chief Surgeon Leonard McCoy? I'm Christine Chapel, the new Head Nurse."

The dark-haired man in the doctor's uniform raised his head, then turned around. "That's me. Welcome to the—"

Leonard "Bones" McCoy stopped in mid-sentence upon looking up, looking as though someone had dropped a ton of bricks on top of him, such was the impact of the blue eyes which met his. She was too beautiful to be real... a blonde-haired, blue-eyed Venus with the voice of an angel and a smile to match. What had she said? Oh yes, she was the new Head Nurse... so he would do well to pull himself together and act like a Chief Surgeon instead of a lovesick schoolboy.

"As I was saying, welcome aboard the Enterprise. Let me show you around Sickbay."

The indoctrination tour was brief; upon beginning the crew physicals, McCoy found himself respecting Chapel's devotion to duty as well as appreciating her extraordinary beauty. He was impressed by her knowledge and bedside manner. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought she'd served on the Enterprise for years.

For her part, Christine found that she had liked the Chief Surgeon on sight. He had mischievous blue eyes, a smile as disarming as the Captain's, and a Southern accent almost thick enough to cut. He was the most dedicated doctor she'd ever worked with, having an endearing way of making subordinates and patients alike feel at ease in his presence. She also noted his gruff, brusque manner...but he was never nasty, which prompted her to conclude that it was a cover-up for a soft heart. For that reason, the gruff facade would never totally fool her again—though she suspected that she would pretend to be, many times in the future.

As time passed, Christine met more and more of the Enterprise crew, finding a special friend in Nyota Uhura, the beautiful Bantu Communications Officer. Uhura was not only the best in her field, she was a talented singer and player of the Vulcan lyrette. Christine was surprised to learn that Spock had musical talent; it seemed quite an emotional thing for such a logical person. Only later did she surmise that it was indeed logical for him to have such an outlet, since he was unable to show his feelings as Humans did. His music was the only way he could express them without violating his Vulcan sensi- bilities.

Christine did her utmost to conceal her growing feelings for Spock from everyone she knew, including Uhura... but from the looks she had received over the past several weeks, she suspected that she wasn't fooling anyone—least of all herself. She had been attracted to Spock from the beginning, but now had to admit that she was in love with him. She still wanted to find Roger, but her heart was no longer as much in it as it had been when she'd first come aboard. Spock had turned her from him. She had learned that the Vulcan was gentle and kind, caring and compassionate, hard-working and loyal... but best of all, scrupulously honest and forthright in all relationships, business and otherwise.

She had never mentioned it to him, but deduced that the Doctor and Captain were Spock's closest friends. He therefore cared very much for them—but could not demonstrate it. At least not openly... but he did care, and that's what mattered. If he could care for them, he could care for her. Even at that, he had never treated her as anything but a colleague, even though she had given him several openings. She was also certain that he was all too aware of how she had come to feel about him—but it wasn't in him to berate her for it, even if he was (presently) unable to return her feelings.

Uhura had told Christine that she and Spock got along very well, that she was, in fact, the only person he trusted with his treasured Vulcan lyre... as well as the only one besides himself with the proficiency to play it. The nurse had also noted that Spock tended to be protective of Uhura; she asked her why.

"I don't know." The other woman shook her head and shrugged. "Maybe it's because I'm a Human female. I believe that Mr. Spock considers all Humans fragile...and women in particular."

"Do you think that is why he doesn't respond to my overtures? Because I'm a Human female, and he considers me too fragile to withstand him when he's in a passionate mood?"

Uhura laughed; Christine gave her a funny look. "What's so funny?"

"It just seems... well... unusual to associate that word with Mr. Spock. He doesn't seem the type."

"Well, I would think that he'd have to be capable of it should the situation call for it—particularly if he's half-Human, and even if he's never showed it openly. It might be harder for him than for us, but it's still possible. I mean, why else would the Vulcans turn to logic?"

Uhura frowned thoughtfully. "You have a point there."

"What do you think I should do, Nyota? How can I get Spock to notice me?"

"Being yourself, being honest and forthright at all times would at least improve your chances—as well as being professional in your dealings with him and not pressuring him into becoming romantically involved with you. No man likes to be pressured into romance before he's ready for it, even if he really wants it."

Christine frowned. "I can't do any more than I'm doing...and it's getting harder every day. For heaven's sake, Nyota, I love the man. I want to hold his hand; I want to touch, kiss and embrace him, make love to him! How long does he think I can take keeping my distance? Hasn't he any idea how hard that is for me? I'm only Human. Whenever he's near me I can barely keep my hands off him, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying how much I love him."

Her voice became quiet, her head bowed.

Uhura smiled. "It's too bad that you can't talk to Spock's mother about how you feel. If anyone could advise you on how to attract a Vulcan—or half-Vulcan—she could. Be that as it may, I'm always here if you need help with anything or a sympathetic ear. After all, what are friends for?"

Christine hugged her new friend. "How did I ever live without you?"

Uhura returned the embrace. "I heard that we're supposed to go to Exo III for our next mission. If I remember right, you said that was where Roger Korby's last transmissions came from. Don't you still want to find him?"

The nurse bowed her head again. "I suppose so, though not as much as I wanted to when I originally came aboard... even though I do still care for him and want to find out what happened to him. The least I can do is go through with my original plan."

"What if you find him again and he wants to take up where you left off? That would be difficult for you, now that you're in love with Spock."

Christine sighed. "At this point, I really don't know. I prefer to cross that bridge when I come to it."

"The bridge is coming up real soon, Chris," Uhura reminded her. "You'd better think of some- thing quick."

THREE 

Uhura's information had been partially correct. They were indeed scheduled to go to Exo III, but that was after their current mission, to go to Psi 2000 and pick up a crew of five scientific researchers there... then record the planet's last moments, since it was due to destroy itself.

The first thing that happened after they arrived and a landing party had beamed down was that the researchers they were to have picked up had been found dead... under most bizarre circumstances, to put it mildly. However, an even more unusual phenomenon occurred not long after Spock and Lt. Joe Tormolen had returned from the planet. They were unaware that Tormolen had inadvertently brought a virus back with him, undetectable to McCoy's bio-comps, but one which prompted young Joe to do things he would ordinarily never have done—like attempt suicide. He eventually died on the operating table, and both she and McCoy were at a loss to explain why.

By contact with him, Sulu and Riley had also been infected. It affected the Asian first; he ended up fancying himself as D'Artagnan, one of the Three Musketeers, brandishing a foil in a threatening manner at every crewmember he came in contact with before Spock subdued him with a nerve pinch. Not long afterward, the effects manifested themselves in Riley, the Irish navigator... which prompted Spock to order him to Sickbay. Upon reaching Sickbay, Riley waylaid Christine as she was working at her desk. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he tapped her on the shoulder and asked about Joe.

The young Irishman then took her chin in one hand, telling her that she had lovely eyes and was very beautiful. She gently removed his hand, but he held onto hers, telling her that the reason Joe had died was because he hadn't been born Irish. The statement was so ludicrous that Christine almost laughed. As though one could control one's nationality! He left after that, having infected her with the virus.

Christine looked at her hands, which had begun to perspire, frowning as she rubbed them together... then on her uniform. She stood up and went to the nearby mirror to release some of her long hair from its pins. Her face became dreamy as she went back to her desk and retrieved a small vial of rose-musk perfume from the top drawer, then began to perfume herself.

A short time later, Spock came into Sickbay looking for McCoy. Christine informed him in a lazy drawl that the Doctor had gone to one of the science labs. He tried to call the aforementioned lab, but met with no success. She came up behind him, walking and posing provocatively. The Vulcan seemed obliv- ious of her; not until she grabbed his hand as he turned around did he remember she was there.

"Mr. Spock?"

"Yes, Nurse?"

"The men from Vulcan treat their women strangely... or at least people say that. But you're part Human, too. I see how honest you are, and know how you must feel—divided. But you do have feelings... How we must hurt you, torture you—but you couldn't... you wouldn't—hurt me... would you?"

"Nurse…" 

Spock was embarrassed in spite of himself, fighting the sensations coursing through his body as she held his hand. Thankfully he managed to extricate himself and headed for the door.

"I'm in love with you, Mr. Spock," she blurted out as he reached it.

The expression on his face was a mixture of pain and confusion. She walked over to him and took his hand once again. He couldn't bring himself to look at her.

"I am in control of my emotions," he declared, more to himself than to her.

"Others believe that. I don't." She raised her hands to cradle his face. "Now, I love you...I don't know why, but I do love you—the Human Mr. Spock, the Vulcan Mr. Spock—just as you are." Christine captured one hand and raised it to her lips. "Oh, how I love you..."

"Miss Chapel…" The words were little more than a whisper; Spock was nearly overwhelmed by the depth of emotion he felt from her. To all intents and purposes, he was shocked speechless.

She put a finger to his lips. "Christine, please."

At last he finished his sentence. "I am sorry..."

"Christine," she prompted.

"Christine," Spock repeated, then extricated himself again and stumbled out the Sickbay door.

She leaned against the wall after he left, smiling foolishly and still savoring the warmth of his skin on her lips. Her only regret was that it had not been his lips. She had hungered for the feel of them on hers, his body close to hers and his warmth beneath her hands—not to mention the feel of his hands on her -- for so long that she had no idea just when it started, but now knew it would never end.

The next Christine heard of Spock was Kirk relating to McCoy what had happened when he had found the Vulcan in a deserted briefing room on Deck Seven, where he must have ended up after leaving her. She was amazed to hear that the Captain had found Spock crying. What could have been so trau- matic as to make him cry? She didn't think the virus could have affected him like that, even if he was half-Human... or made him backhand Kirk across the briefing room table after the Captain had given him a blinding slap across the face in a desperate attempt to snap Spock out of his tearful reverie and back to himself.

Fortunately Leonard had found the cure for the virus, and Spock and Scotty had imploded the ship's engines, using an emergency restart theory involving the relationship between time and antimatter. (A virus-affected Kevin Riley had locked himself in Engineering and tampered with the controls, turning the ship's engines off in the process.) This was necessary in order to get them away from the disintegrat- ing Psi 2000 before the Enterprise burned up in its atmosphere. As it turned out, their unusually high speed had catapulted them into a time-warp which sent them three days back in time.

It had been a rough ride, but well worth it, even if they did have to relive the last three days over again. Most of it she really didn't care to remember, except the part with her and Spock. He was probably as embarrassed as she, but at least he had had a firsthand demonstration of how she felt. Perhaps she had even been able to make him feel a little of what he made her feel. Even so, it would be a while before she could look him in the face without blushing. Not even at the height of her romance with Roger had she done such things! Of course, Roger wasn't Spock—but then Spock wasn't Roger.

They had many differences, but it was their similarities which had led her to an abrupt change of heart. Christine hadn't believed it possible to have such a complete turnaround in such a short space of time...less than six months. Even so, she still wanted to locate Roger, if only to find out what had hap- pened to him—then go from there.

Not even weeks later did Christine clearly recall what had happened. It had started so well, being reunited with Roger again (or so she thought), but all too soon it had turned into a nightmare...a night- mare she had actually lived. One part which would remain clear in her mind was the sight of Roger's replica vanishing with the android Andrea in the phaser beam as she tried to kiss him. He had fought her every inch of the way, but she finally succeeded—then pulled the trigger on the phaser.

The next thing she remembered was being held and comforted in the Captain's arms prior to Spock's arrival with two Security men, shuddering uncontrollably and too numb with shock to cry. When she approached the command chair on the Bridge a day later, the Captain rested his hand over hers for a moment. It was warm and comforting, but she wished it could have been Spock's. Oh well, one couldn't have everything.

And how fortuitous it had been to have been turned from Roger before learning what kind of thing he had become. Literally a shell of his former self; not the man she had once loved at all. Concern- ing Spock, Leonard had a way of referring to the Vulcan as "that pointy-eared machine," but she was certain that Spock was no more a machine than she was—and given the chance, she intended to prove it. And not only to McCoy...

FOUR 

The next thing which stood out in Christine's mind was what happened when the Enterprise reached Omicron Ceti Three, a Federation colony. They were sent to find out why there had been no communications from them for three years. Upon arrival, the ship's sensors detected Berthold rays, which caused disintegration of the body tissue of animal and Humanoid life-forms within 72 hours. Its rapid effects were attributed to the fact that the radiation particles were easily absorbed through inhalation.

For that reason, Spock was certain that none of the colonists could possibly be alive... so one could imagine the landing party's shock upon discovering the colonists not only alive, but in the best of health—if in a somewhat euphoric state. However, there were no animals to be found...not even insects. No dogs, cats, or livestock like cattle, horses, chickens and turkeys. Spock was unable to find out why the colonists had survived exposure to the deadly rays. That is, until one showed him a spore-plant with spiky orange flowers.

The spore pod exploded in his face, showering him with pinkish-white spores which made the Vulcan euphoric as well, allowing him to release his emotions and forget his inhibitions. It was good for him, but ended up causing Christine more pain than she could have imagined it possible to endure. The aforementioned colonist was a woman Spock had known on Earth six years before who had fallen in love with him as Christine had. Unlike Christine's situation, however, Spock had also fallen in love with her, although he had neither admitted his feelings nor permitted himself to express them—until now.

And to think that Leonard had talked her down to the planet, assuring her that even Spock had been affected by the spore plants...which would make it easier for her to get close to him as she wished. Like a fool, she had believed him and beamed down, as many other crewmembers affected by the spores were doing. Leonard led her to one of the plants, allowing her to get a faceful of pinkish-white spores as well—then told her to go find Spock before someone else did. She assured McCoy she would do just that, immediately going off in search of the object of her affections.

A long walk later, Christine stopped at the top of a hill beneath a shade tree to rest. She leaned against it, breathing deeply and closing her eyes, almost falling asleep...until a woman's laughter reached her ears. She looked around to see if the source of the laughter was anywhere nearby. To her shock, Christine saw a couple lounging together under another shade tree only 100 yards away. A moment later the woman spoke, her voice holding a slight British accent.

"I've never seen a dragon."

"I have, on Berengaria Seven," her companion replied.

His voice was deep, richly masculine—and unmistakable. Spock! Christine then noted his pointing out a dragon-shaped cloud to his companion. "Look...the cloud has returned!"

Spock's head was in the woman's lap; she was stroking his hair. For a long time, Christine stood there paralyzed, unable to move, breathe, or think. It seemed as though her whole world, her entire life, had gone completely down the tubes. The worst nightmare she could have imagined was coming to life before her eyes. The one man she loved more than anything else in the universe was doing the one thing she never dreamed he would ever do—with another woman!

At this point something seemed to die inside her and she was back to normal. Normal except for the almost unbearable pain inside her. To think that for over half an hour she had searched for Spock, intending for them to share a romantic afternoon together...and then found him with another woman! Once she brought her heartbreak under control, Christine felt murderous anger.

That contemptible hypocrite; that two-faced bastard! How could he do this to her? He always refused her, put her off—but did this with some English tart! Just what did that witch have that she merited Spock's most desirable love and attention? Christine would have done anything for him, short of murder, if he'd said the word... but he hardly gave her the time of day. Damn him to Hell! Why couldn't she hate him?

The sound of voices brought Christine back to reality.

"I love you, Spock." The blonde woman reached up to caress his cheek.

He put a hand over hers, giving her a heartbreakingly beautiful smile. "Sweet Leila. You are so beautiful."

Spock then drew the petite blonde into his arms and kissed her. The kiss turned passionate, and the couple lowered themselves to lie on the grass, continuing to kiss and caress each other. That was as much as Christine could stand. As soon as she could make her legs move, she got the hell out of there... far away from the spot where her world had ended. She didn't want to think of what had happened after she left.

Hurrying back to the beamdown point, Christine felt in her tunic pocket for her communicator. Thank God she had had the foresight to bring one, even though she had never planned to use it this soon. She flipped the grid open and spoke into the small speaker, hoping the tears she fought to hold back didn't show in her voice.

"Nurse Chapel to Enterprise. I want to beam up."

Thomas Winston Kyle, the euphoric-sounding Transporter Chief, almost as good a friend to her as Uhura, had been busy transporting people to the surface and was surprised to find someone wanting to beam back to the ship.

"Is something wrong, Chris? Did something bad happen? You sound upset." His voice was laced with concern.

"I don't want to talk about it, Tom. Just beam me up, please. I've got to get away from this place before I go mad!"

Kyle sighed. "Okay, if you say so. Just give me a minute to transport this latest group down to the surface."

"Standing by."

Christine flipped the communicator grid closed and waited, praying that the erstwhile Spock and his lady friend didn't suddenly show up. A moment later the communicator beeped; she flipped it open again.

"Stand by for beamup, Chris," Kyle said.

She soon felt the tingly sensation of dematerialization, glad to be getting away from Omicron Ceti Three. If she never laid eyes on that godforsaken place again, it would be too soon!

An impatient group of crewmembers was waiting when Christine materialized, looking at her as though she was crazy. Christine ignored them. Her reasons for returning were her own affair. If they didn't like waiting a minute more, that was their problem. She left—no, _escaped_—the Transporter Room, taking to her heels as soon as she was around the corner...not stopping until she reached a turbolift and dashed inside.

"Deck Five," she ordered. The doors swished closed and she was on her way—far away from that nightmare planet, far away from Spock and that woman.

A few hours later, a cure was found for the spore effect. Soon the colonists were all evacuated and taken aboard ship, then transported to Starbase 27. That is, after all the crew had returned. The following day, Christine was in the lab when she happened to overhear a conversation between McCoy and Kirk.

"My God, Jim, you're a mess!" the Doctor exclaimed. "What happened?"

"I went a round with Spock." There was a shocked silence before Kirk continued. "I found that strong emotions were the way to counteract the spores, so I got Spock to beam up from the planet, then started in on him the moment he arrived. He took it for a while, but eventually began slapping me around and throwing me against the wall. I barely managed to keep him from killing me. I knew it was dangerous to make him mad, but it was the only way I could think of to get him back to normal."

McCoy shook his head and whistled. "You're lucky you're still in one piece. I hope you don't intend to do it again right away."

"Rest assured, I don't," Kirk declared. "Believe me, that's the first and last time I make Spock angry. I swear, I'm going to ache for a month!"

After three days of Christine being as tight-lipped as an Aldeberan shellmouth, McCoy decided to investigate and see if he could find out why. Not even Uhura had been able to get anything out of her. The Bantu woman had no idea what had happened to make her friend act this way...and was very worried. How could she help if Christine wouldn't talk? Then an idea struck Uhura; she snapped her fingers. Spock! It had to have something to do with Spock. He was the only one Chris cared enough for to hurt like this about.

At 2300 hours on the third day out from Omicron Three, the Chief Surgeon stood at the door to his chief nurse's quarters. He was understandably apprehensive about this. There was no guarantee that he could get Chris to open up any more than Uhura had, but he had to try. He could tell that something had happened on Omicron Three—something which was tearing Chris apart inside—and it had to be brought out into the open before it drove her mad. He gently pressed her door buzzer.

"Who is it?" she called.

"It's me, Chris. Please let me in. I want to talk to you."

"About what?" Her voice became hard and suspicious.

"What happened to you on Omicron Three."

"Forget it, Leonard. It's none of your business...and even if it was, I can handle it."

Damn the woman! She was as stubborn as Spock. "Chris, I'm not only your superior officer, I'm your friend. If something bad happened to you there, let me help. You've got to get it out in the open or else it'll drive you mad."

"Just let me worry about that," she threw back.

By this time, McCoy was getting angry. "Dammit, Chris, stop being so stubborn! I want to help you, but I can't if you won't let me."

Silence.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong. Now let me in, for God's sake!"

Long moments passed before the door was unlocked. "Okay, come in," the nurse sighed.

McCoy found Christine lying on her bed in her sleeping alcove, one arm shielding her eyes from the dim light of the bedside lamp. Her hair and uniform were rumpled; her feet and legs were bare. The Doctor went over to her bed and asked her to move over so he could sit down next to her.

"All right, Chris, out with it. What's bothering you? What's tearing you apart inside?"

For a long moment there was silence, then Leonard McCoy was startled as the woman on the bed threw herself into his arms, sobbing as though she could never stop. He held her and stroked her hair, crooning comforting words until her sobs lessened in volume and intensity. His uniform shirt was wet when Christine finally lifted her head. Her face was flushed red, as though she had a high fever, and her eyes were swollen.

"Feel up to talking about it yet?" McCoy asked gently.

Christine shook her head, but words began to flow from her nonetheless. "It's Spock." Her voice was quiet, as if normal speech would bring on fresh tears. "I—saw him..." Her voice trailed off.

"Yes, go on," the Doctor urged. "So you saw Spock. What happened next?"

"I...stopped to rest under a shade tree for a while, then heard a woman laugh. I looked around to see where it was coming from. I saw a couple lounging together under a tree. At first I wasn't sure who the man was...then she said something and he replied. It was—it was..." She couldn't speak further.

"Spock, right?" McCoy supplied.

Christine nodded miserably, eyes again filling with tears. "I—was hypnotized. I couldn't move, could hardly even breathe. I was just numb...couldn't believe it was really happening. It was—like one of my worst nightmares coming to life before my eyes." Christine once again moved into her superior's arms. "The...next thing I knew, she was saying she loved him, caressing his cheek with one hand. He covered her hand with his and smiled tenderly at her before telling her she was sweet—and beautiful." Her voice nearly broke.

"And after...that, he took her in his arms and—kissed her. A little later they lay down on the grass together, still kissing...and caressing. I—couldn't take any more. I had to leave while I still could. I ran back to the beamdown point, then called the ship and asked to be beamed up. Once out of the Transporter Room and around the corner, I hightailed it to a turbolift—and...went to my quarters. Other than my duty shifts, this is where I've spent most of the last few days." Christine's head bowed; her eyes closed in pain as she once again began sobbing quietly. "I—just couldn't face Spock. It...would hurt too much, especially now. You understand."

"Chris, I'm so sorry. I feel like it's my fault for talking you down and getting you infected with those damn spores." McCoy was contrite. "But I thought that since Spock was the first one affected, you would be able to—"

Christine stopped him with a finger on his lips. "Leonard, you couldn't have known he was already with somebody. You have nothing to be sorry about."

"I still wish I could have spared you that." He dried her tears with a tissue.

"I know, and I appreciate your concern—as well as your trying to help me." She yawned and stretched. "I'm tired. I think I'll catch up on some of the sleep I've lost over the last few days." She got up from the bed and began to rummage through her dresser drawers for a nightgown. "You'd better hit the sack, too. You've got to get up at 0500 tomorrow, if memory serves me," Christine reminded him, once again the Head Nurse of the Enterprise.

"You're sure you'll be all right now? I can give you something to help you sleep if you think you'll need it."

Christine smiled and shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I'm plenty tired."

"All right then, I'll let you get ready for bed. Thank goodness it's your day off today, so you'll have time to get back to your normal sunny self." A smile was in his voice; Christine looked at him and saw that it had spread to his lips. She went into his arms to give him a grateful hug.

"Thanks, Leonard. I'm glad you came."

"That's what doctors—and friends—are for. Good night, now." He brushed his lips against her forehead and headed for the door...then stopped there and turned back to face her. "Chris, does Spock know that you seen him with that other woman?"

Christine shook her head. "I don't think so. Why?"

"Would you like me to talk to him?"

"It's sweet of you to offer, but no thanks. I've got to solve this on my own. I was thinking of confronting him anyway, as soon as I feel brave enough—and fairly sure that I won't scream at him or bust out crying."

"Okay, if you think you can handle it...but the offer remains open."

"I'll bear that in mind. Thanks again. Good night, Leonard."

"Good night, Chris."

With that, McCoy was gone. She smiled at the closed door of her quarters before locking it again and going into her bathroom to have a sonic shower. Upon completion of the shower, she donned a silky shortie nightgown with spaghetti straps and lacy top and slipped into bed, asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

FIVE 

Nearly a week passed before Spock sought Christine out. He had sensed her emotional distress from the beginning and suspected that it was because of him, having heard rumors that neither of the two people closest to her, Dr. McCoy and Uhura, had been able to find out what was bothering her. He didn't know if he would do any better, but it would be illogical not to try... provided she would speak to him. That evening at 2200 hours, he stood at her door and pressed the buzzer to announce his presence.

"Who is it?" came her voice from behind the door.

"Spock. May I speak with you, Miss Chapel? It is very important."

Christine frowned. What was Spock doing here?

"Miss Chapel, are you still there?" he asked after a long silence.

"Yes."

She wanted to—and yet didn't want to—let him in. Just hearing his voice brought back the pain of what she had witnessed on Omicron Three. It had taken her this long to be able to speak of him or think about him without crying. Christine had had no idea that anyone could have such a profound effect on her... or that it was possible for her to love anyone as she loved Spock. She was thankful that her anger had cooled and reason had taken its place. He couldn't have known she was there; she knew him well enough by now to know that he wasn't a cruel person, and would never consciously hurt her—or anyone else.

Even so, it could not erase her pain at seeing him romancing another woman when she wanted so much for it to be her. After a time Christine searched her heart and found that the only emotion she felt toward the woman Spock had been with was envy. Envy that the other woman had known his kisses, his touch, the feel of his body close to hers, his velvet voice crooning words of love. With a part of her, Christine couldn't really blame her "rival" for loving him, even commending her for her taste in men. She finally decided to open the door, albeit with misgivings, praying she wouldn't end up regretting it.

"Miss Chapel, are you going to let me in or not?" His voice held a touch of annoyance.

"Come in."

Spock did so, stepping through the doors which opened to admit him and which swished closed behind him a moment later. He found Christine sitting on her bed, her hair loose and falling around her shoulders. Her robe was fake fur, tied tightly around her slender waist. The Vulcan glimpsed one shapely leg and some cleavage from the angle where he stood, allowing himself to enjoy the sight (as well as the smell of her rose-musk perfume), even if he didn't voice his opinion.

"I understand that something I have done is troubling you deeply."

"Who told you that?" the nurse asked tonelessly.

"No one; I sensed your distress."

"And came here to offer sympathy? How thoughtful... but I don't need your sympathy—or anyone else's. It was my fault for allowing myself to fall in love with you, allowing you to replace Roger in my heart—letting you get to me." Her voice was quiet, her head bowed. "So why don't you just leave me the hell alone and get back to your meditation or whatever it is you do at this time?"

"I want you to tell me what is troubling you."

Christine stiffened. "Why should I? Why should you give a damn how I feel? Surely you have more important, more 'logical' things to occupy your time. I wish to God I could hate you for all you've put me through, but I can't. That is all I have to say to you. Now if you would kindly leave, I must get to bed. It's nearly 2400, and I've got to be in Sickbay at 0530."

She turned her back on him, her voice as cool as Spock's own usually was. "Christine, do not do this. Let me help. Please tell me how I hurt you so that I may make amends." He sounded sincere enough, and she knew that Vulcans rarely lied...but he had hurt her so much. She couldn't afford to risk her heart again.

"There is nothing to make amends for. It's my mistake; I'm the one who has to deal with the consequences, not you."

She didn't look at him, couldn't look into those velvet eyes which seemed to read her mind. She'd break down for sure! _Spock, please go away,_ she silently entreated. _Your nearness is almost unbearable. I want so much to be in your arms, feel your body close to mine, taste the sweetness of your lips—but will not force my love on you. Don't you realize how hard it is for me to stand here like this, knowing you're so close, but that I can never touch you, hold you or kiss you? _

Christine crossed her arms in front of her chest, keeping her head down and back to him as she spoke. "Besides, you never gave me the time of day before, so why should my feelings matter to you now?"

"Because...you are the Head Nurse of the Enterprise. Your emotional distress could prove detrimental in your work. It is my duty as your superior to assist you in every way possible in resolving it."

"Is that all I am to you? The Head Nurse of the Enterprise?" She whirled to face him. "Let's get one thing straight here and now, Mister. The only way you could help me is to—" She broke off, unable to finish.

"What do you want me to do?" Spock asked gently.

_I want you to love me, Christine thought sadly. I want you to hold me, kiss me and caress me as you did that other woman on Omicron Three. Of course, that's too much to ask, so I won't even bother to mention it. _

"Christine, answer me. I cannot help you unless you tell me how I hurt you." To her shock, Spock lifted her chin and looked deeply into her eyes. She shook her head, fighting the trembling which seemed to overwhelm her at his nearness as well as the weakness in her knees.

"It's too much to ask."

"What is too much to ask?"

"That...you love me." He raised an astonished eyebrow. "Or—failing that, it would be a lot easier for me if we could at least be friends. Anything's better than your treating me like a piece of Sickbay furniture. Dammit, Spock, I love you! Haven't you any idea how that hurts me?"

"I am sorry for any pain I have caused you. I hope you know that it was not intentional. It is simply that I do not easily share what is within me with others. It has taken me many years to learn to do it with the Captain and Dr. McCoy. In addition, should we spend time together, the other crewmembers could misinterpret our relationship."

"Since when does their opinion matter?"

"I simply have no wish to lead you to expect something I cannot give. That is all."

"Spock, I would never pressure you. You should know that by now. Anything that happens would be your decision." Tears slid down her cheeks; she closed her eyes in a futile attempt to conceal them.

"Christine, Dr. McCoy tells me that you inadvertently witnessed a romantic interlude between myself and one of the female colonists from Omicron Ceti Three."

Tears again welled up in the nurse's eyes at the mention of the incident, but she fought them back. "Y... yes, I did."

"Is that what has upset you?"

She nodded, unable to speak.

"Christine, the woman I was with... I had known her on Earth some years ago. She had fallen in love with me, as you have, and I must admit to having some—feelings for her. However, due to my Vulcan upbringing, I could not express them to her. I am certain that she believed I had none to give. Not long afterward, she and I went our separate ways, and did not meet again until the Enterprise visited Omicron Ceti Three. I asked her how they had survived the Berthold rays; she led me to the spore plants she had discovered upon arrival. They—changed me, gave me the ability to release my... emotions for her and to—express them." His voice was soft and low, ill-concealing his embarrassment at speaking of intimate matters.

"Obviously," Christine retorted dryly after they had seated themselves on her bed.

"However, I had no idea that Leila would be one of the colonists. Believe me, it was never my intention to hurt you. It—has never been...easy for me to deal with the feelings others have for me, much less deal with the feelings that some of them inspire in me."

He sounded so sincere she had to believe him, despite the pain his actions had caused.

"Because of my Vulcan half, feelings are supposed to be alien to me... but I have found that I—also have a need to love and be loved, regardless of how emotional and unVulcan that may sound. All intelligent beings have a need for one particular someone...or several people—to care for and about them. However, I am often unable to communicate that need. I usually hope that my...intended partner or friend can 'read between the lines,' as it were, see past my facade of non-emotion and endeavor to fulfill my need."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Can you not guess? Because I regret the pain I have caused you, and wish us to put this incident behind us so that we may start over as friends. Perhaps one day it will be more, but I cannot guarantee that. However, there are always possibilities."

Christine smiled and lay a hand over the one that rested next to hers on the bed. "Thank you, Spock."

He looked up at her wonderingly.

"Thank you for caring enough to come here and explain things to me."

"It was my duty." The Vulcan's voice was cool, but his velvet eyes held warmth and gratitude that she had accepted his apology. At this point he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I now wish to express my appreciation for all you have done for me. I could not have lived without your love and support."

"I pray that I will always be worthy of your friendship." She blushed in spite of herself.

"Just as I pray that I will always be worthy of the feelings you bear for me. And now, if I may be so bold, I would like to—" He broke off, embarrassed at what he had almost confessed.

"You would like to do what?"

"May... I kiss you goodnight?" Spock looked questioningly into her eyes, still holding her hands in his.

"If—that's what you really want." Christine could hardly believe her ears. Could this actually be Spock asking if he could kiss her?

"I do."

He released her hands to draw her close to him in a strong but gentle embrace, then found her lips with his. His lips tasted every bit as sweet as she had always imagined they were. If only the kiss would never end... All too soon he released her, standing up and turning toward the door.

"Incidentally, you would do well to keep your neckline more modest and your legs covered when you have a male caller. They are—you are entirely too attractive for a man's peace of mind. Were I not Vulcan, I might just..." His voice trailed off. "However, I must ask that you keep our conversation to yourself. I have no wish for anyone else to know of it."

"I understand. You may trust me."

"Good night, Christine." Spock put a hand to her cheek. "I will—be in touch... very soon."

She smiled back, then climbed into bed after he left and fell asleep smiling, her arms wrapped around her pillow. With luck, that would change, sooner than she had ever dreamed...but she would not press the issue. She wanted Spock to come to her willingly—and if what had so recently transpired was any indication, he would do just that, given a little time.

The improved personal relationship between Spock and Christine also reflected the quality of their working relationship since the two had had their personal conversation and agreed to be friends. Naturally the Vulcan never let on that there had been any change, but Christine had no such compunctions. She couldn't seem to stop smiling, she was so happy...and all who knew her knew that only Spock could possibly be responsible. The nurse never confirmed or denied their suspicions, merely smiling enigmatically whenever friends like McCoy or Uhura questioned her.

Of course, knowing Spock and Christine as they did, the Doctor and Communications Officer were privately convinced that something had to have happened between their two friends for their previously formal and strained relationship to have changed so radically in such a short space of time. Christine proved to be every bit as tight-lipped as Spock if she didn't want to talk or if someone was getting too close to something she didn't want them to know. It even seemed that she intended to jealously guard whatever had happened between her and the Vulcan, keeping it a private thing between the two of them. However, they hadn't reckoned on McCoy's determination to find out the truth. Being a woman, Uhura eventually figured it out by herself.

"All right, Chris, what the hell's going on?" the Chief Surgeon demanded of his Head Nurse when she arrived for her duty shift a week after the aforementioned incident.

Christine gave him a bland, innocent look. "'Going on'? Whatever do you mean?"

McCoy would have none of it. "Don't hand me that line. I hardly see you outside of Sickbay anymore—and whenever I ask you what you've been up to, you smile and change the subject. I'm getting sick and tired of it. I want to know what the hell happened between you and Spock. That's the only reason I can think of that you would look so happy. Not that you could ever tell that anything had changed as far as Spock was concerned."

"With all due respect, Leonard, my—and Spock's—private lives are none of your business."

"For God's sake, Chris, I'm your friend. Spock's, too. You should know by now that you can trust me."

"Trust is not the issue, Leonard. You're invading our privacy."

"My God, you're beginning to sound just like Spock," McCoy groused.

"Yes, aren't I." She walked over to her desk to pick up that day's patient chart and go over it. As far as she was concerned, their conversation was over.

McCoy had a different opinion. "Dammit, Chris, talk to me! I care about you and Spock! Now that the two of you are happy together, all I want to know is how it came about. Is that so much to ask?"

"Why is it so important for you to know?" Christine looked up impatiently from the patient chart. "Can't you just be happy that we're happy, and let it go at that?"

"Now don't you start throwing logic at me! I get enough of that from Spock." McCoy's tone was peevish.

"Leonard, can't we just get down to business? We've got a lot of physicals to do."

"To hell with the physicals! If you want me off your back, I suggest you tell me what I want to know."

The Head Nurse gave the Chief Surgeon a hard look. "Now who's throwing logic around?"

"Are you going to tell me or not?" McCoy persisted.

Christine sighed. "You're certainly tenacious, I'll say that for you. All right, I'll tell you."

Once she finished, McCoy gave her a satisfied smile. "Well, aren't you sitting in the catbird seat. It's not everyone who can have a Vulcan twisted around their little finger." His smile widened. "Especially this particular Vulcan. Frankly I didn't think it was possible for anyone to make him wake up and die right. Congratulations."

She shook her head. "I do believe that your congratulations is a tad premature. Even I haven't gotten that far yet. Spock isn't easily seduced."

"I wouldn't worry. If you've gotten this far, it's only a matter of time." McCoy laughed. "Hell, Spock's half-Human. Who knows, he may end up seducing you!"

"Don't I wish," Christine observed. "But from what I've heard, Vulcans don't make the first move."

"There's a first time for everything," the Doctor reminded her.

Christine chuckled. "That would be a first!"

SIX 

Two other things stuck out in Christine's mind over the next six months—the first being the first time (and unfortunately not the last) Christine saw Spock in pain, agonizing right along with him every step of the way. The second was the realization of her dream, the consummation of their recently revamped relationship. The first incident began (according to Dr. McCoy) when it was learned that Deneva, another Federation colony, was in the grip of mass insanity after the Enterprise had intercepted a message from a Denevan pilot who deliberately steered his ship into the sun, destroying both himself and the cause of his insanity in the process.

Uhura told her that she had managed to make contact with the Captain's private transmitter in the home of his older brother, George Samuel Kirk Jr. (the Captain called him "Sam") where the latter lived with his wife, Aurelan, and their son, Peter. The voice of an almost hysterical Aurelan Kirk came over the speaker, making a desperate plea for help. However, the transmission terminated after that, and nothing Uhura did could raise her again.

The Communications Officer continued, telling the chief nurse that Kirk had assembled the following landing party in the Main Transporter Room: himself, Spock, McCoy, Yeoman Zahra Jamal, Scotty, and one Security officer. They had not detected anything unusual, but the Captain was convinced that there had to be something there and he intended to find it. Upon beaming down, McCoy said they were nearly accosted by a group of men yelling for them to get away, that they didn't want to hurt them...yet all carried clubs with which to strike them. The party stunned them with phaser fire; the four men crumpled to the ground like paper dolls.

McCoy had checked them out, almost as stunned himself to find his medical tricorder registering a high level of nerve activity, as though the men were being violently stimulated even while unconscious. Before they could figure out what had happened and what had caused it, a piercing scream came from a nearby building, the one where Kirk had said his brother's lab was. The party took off at a run, finding an hysterical Aurelan screaming, "They're here! Keep them away...keep them away!"

The Captain had run to his stricken sister-in-law and pulled her into his arms in an attempt to calm her. The Chief Surgeon was investigating two bodies lying on the floor. One was that of Kirk's brother, the other that of the latter's son. The Captain yelled for the Doctor to give the screaming woman something to calm her, then Kirk set her down in a nearby chair. He was brought back to reality by Bones calling him over to where he knelt by the body of his brother.

"Is this your brother, Jim?"

The moment James Kirk turned the limp body over, he knew that his brother was gone. Sam was dead. "Oh...Sam." A wave of grief washed over him. "Yes..." the Captain managed to answer. "It's my brother. Was my brother," he amended, tears burning his eyelids.

"I'm sorry, Jim," McCoy had sympathized. "The boy is unconscious, but he's still alive."

The Captain moved to his nephew's side. "Peter..." he called softly.

The boy moved restlessly, grimacing in pain with every breath. The Doctor's voice sounded as if it was coming through a filter as it said that he needed to get Peter and his mother up to the ship because he couldn't do anything more for them here.

"Get ready to beam up."

Kirk got up as though he himself was in pain, leaning against the nearby wall, breathing as though he had a lead weight in his chest where his heart should be. This was how Spock found him. The look on Kirk's face went straight to his Vulcan friend's heart; for a moment the latter had an irrational but understandable impulse to take the Captain into his arms and comfort him.

Instead, he said, "Captain, I can understand how you must—" 

Kirk had cut him off, visibly pulling himself together and asking what Spock thought Aurelan had meant. Not even the Vulcan could say what at this point, but assured his Captain that he would do all in his power to find out.

Upon the return to the planet, Kirk had rejoined his party and they had gone in search of the creature Aurelan had mentioned before she screamed one last time and died, imploring her brother-in-law not to let them go any further. (Christine would never forget that moment; her ears still rang with the poor woman's screams.) The small group had entered the main Administration building, following a strange buzzing sound they had heard. Upon making their way down a short flight of stairs, the Captain had called to Spock; creatures started flying as both pulled out their phasers. The next minute, the air was filled with the flying creatures. The group dropped to their knees, ducking as the things flew only inches over their heads. Once the space above them was creature-free, Kirk turned his phaser on "kill" and brought one of them down.

"It doesn't even look real," Yeoman Jamal observed.

He barely heard Spock, catching only random phrases: "Doesn't even register on my tricorder...not life as we know it...came from an entirely different galaxy...I suggest we risk taking it aboard..."

Kirk stood up straight, prompting the rest of the party to follow suit. "It's too close in here. May be a trap. Let's move out."

As the group started up the stairs, the Captain was startled to hear a cry of pain—from Spock! _Spock?_ Impossible! He had to be imagining it...but he wasn't. The rest of the party stood frozen, watching in incredulous horror as the Vulcan fell backwards off the stairs, then rolled around on the floor clawing at his back. Kirk finally got the thing off, throwing it aside before drawing his stricken friend into his arms and turning him over.

"It's gone. Can you stand...? _Spock, are you all right?_" But even as Kirk said it, even as he looked at his friend's pain-contorted face, he knew that Spock was beyond help—or at least any help he was capable of giving.

This was when another nightmare began for Christine. When Spock had arrived in Sickbay, she had moved as though in a fog, going through the motions mechanically, without thinking. If she did, she would go mad herself. They had removed the First Officer's uniform and placed him on his belly, covering him with a sheet and wheeling him to the OR. She was emotionally exhausted when they had finally gotten Spock prepped and sedated, though outwardly she had looked calm, cool and collected. The wound where the creature had attached itself to his upper back was not serious in itself; it was what it had left behind that was the problem.

A stinger similar to that of a bee had imbedded itself in Spock's spinal cord; from there tentacles intertwined all around and through his nervous system...far too involved for conventional surgery to remove. Leonard McCoy worked rapidly, efficiently, extracting the aforementioned "stinger". The Vulcan came out from under the anesthesia the first time just as the surgeon made the incision; the second was as he was preparing to close, immediately tensing up. The Doctor gestured to Christine; the body under his hands relaxed once again.

"That's the second time he's come out of it," McCoy muttered. "Either he's fighting us or something inside of him is fighting us."

Christine stole a look at the wall scanner—the K-3 indicator, which registered the level of pain, moved to its limit. She noted that it would have gone higher had it been able to...then began a slow descent. She found herself wondering if Spock's mental disciplines had anything to do with it. Not long afterward McCoy looked up.

"Prepare to close," he said.

Christine was momentarily stunned into speechlessness and immobility. He couldn't be serious! "Nurse!" he barked when she made no move.

"Doctor, surely that's not all you're going to do!" she protested.

"Miss Chapel!" the Chief Surgeon thundered, angry now.

"Sir, there is more of it in him, entwined all through his body!" she threw back desperately.

McCoy's blue eyes were icy. "If you can't assist me as required, call another nurse in here—but do one or the other now!"

That reached her, and the operation was completed. Spock was heavily sedated, dressed in Sickbay coveralls and carefully placed in bed. Leonard gave her the first watch, going up to the Bridge to show the Captain what he had found. He admonished her to let him know immediately if there was any change, or if Spock regained consciousness.

Christine assured him she would do so, moving over to Spock's bedside after McCoy left, intending to keep a vigil there. Her eyes never moved from the beloved face. How she wished that she could have placed a soothing hand on his head and stroked his hair, murmuring comforting words the times he had come out from under the anesthetic... It tore at her heart to see Spock in such pain. She would have willingly changed places with him, done anything to have spared him this.

_Please God, give him the strength to endure,_ she prayed. Tears misted her eyes as she gazed upon the Vulcan's sleeping face. _And while you're at it, give me some, too. I can't bear to see him like this!_

An hour later, Christine looked up from where she was working at the table near Spock's bed when he awakened and sat up, making twitching and jerking movements as he strove to control the pain being inflicted on him. She was immediately on her feet.

"Mr. Spock, you shouldn't be up."

"No! No, I won't!" the Vulcan said, ignoring her.

The twitching and jerking increased as he fought the pain he was feeling. He stood up and turned toward the door.

"Mr. Spock, you mustn't--!" Christine tried to stop him; he roughly pushed her aside and left. She called the Bridge. "Sickbay to Bridge. Tell Dr. McCoy that Mr. Spock just left here. He's delirious, possibly dangerous." She then grabbed a hypo full of sedative and ran out of Sickbay to head for the Bridge, knowing McCoy would need it almost as soon as she arrived.

Her words provoked immediate action, which was none too soon. Spock arrived on the Bridge at that moment, throwing a startled Sulu out of his chair. "Must take the ship out..." he declared.

Kirk, Scotty, and two other Bridge personnel converged on the crazed Vulcan, pressing him against the railing. Kirk hunched his shoulder when he saw Spock's hand moving in for the nerve pinch; finally the four men managed to wrestle him to the floor. Christine arrived about this time, handing McCoy the hypo of sedative.

"Hurry up and give him the shot, Bones!"

Kirk was unsure how much longer he and the others could hold Spock down. Even the Vulcan's normal strength was half again that of Humans, so one could imagine what it would be in his present condition.

"Let me go!...I must...take us down!" Spock insisted.

The Doctor elbowed his way over, then crouched down and administered the shot, immediately silencing the protests. The others didn't release their grips until the Vulcan slumped back onto the deck. The Captain was breathing heavily as he came to his feet.

"Get him back to Sickbay. Use security restraints."

Christine followed the medical team back to Sickbay, heartsick as she watched the orderlies strap Spock down in bed. How could they do this to him? He was such a gentle person; he didn't deserve to be treated like some kind of lunatic! She quickly, ruthlessly, brought herself up short. In his present condition, Spock was a lunatic—and couldn't be trusted not to harm others or himself. Even so, she didn't think she could bear to see his face once he awakened and found himself strapped down.

It was Leonard who told her what happened later. He and Kirk stood at Spock's bedside, watching the wall scanner.

"The K-3 indicator registers the level of pain. Now watch as I turn it on." He pressed a button; the indicator moved up to its limit, then tried to move even higher. The semiconscious Vulcan moaned in his sleep, head twitching and jerking as he fought for control. Moments later the indicator began to slowly but steadily drop.

"That's what he's been going through. I've never seen anything like it. No wonder the poor devils go mad."

Spock tightly squeezed his eyes shut before awakening in a Sickbay bed, astonished at finding himself forcibly restrained. The twitches and jerks continued, but to a lesser degree, as he focused on the concerned faces of the two standing over him.

"Doctor...Captain." His voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.

"Spock," Kirk replied.

The Vulcan gave McCoy a meaningful look. "These restraints will no longer be necessary—nor will your sedatives, Doctor. I will be able to return to duty. I apologize for my weakness earlier; I simply did not...understand."

The Chief Surgeon looked dubious upon hearing that, his reply gentle and non-judgmental. "What's to understand, Mr. Spock?"

"I am a Vulcan, Doctor. Pain is a thing of the mind. The mind can be controlled."

"You're only half Vulcan," the Captain said. "What about your Human half?"

Spock bit his lip. "It...is proving to be an—inconvenience, but it...is manageable." He twisted and jerked again. "Even now, the creature, with all of its thousands of parts, is pressuring me. It wants the ship—but I am resisting."

Kirk and McCoy's eyes traveled to the wall scanner, which would have gone higher had it been possible. "Can he control it the way he says, Bones?" The Captain looked at his Chief Surgeon for answers.

"Who knows, Jim?" McCoy shrugged. "I know the amount of pain the creature can inflict upon him—but whether he can control it, hour-to-hour..."

"I have my own will," Spock insisted. "Let me help."

"I need you, Spock," Kirk said. "But it's best that you remain confined for a while longer. If you can maintain control—then we'll see." Kirk turned and headed for the door; he winced when he heard another moan of pain from his stricken friend. A moment later he stopped in his tracks to look at his still-unconscious nephew in the adjoining bed. "If he regains consciousness, will he go through that?" McCoy nodded grimly.

"Help them. I don't care what it takes or costs. You've got to help them!"

McCoy put a hand out to stop the Captain as he made to leave. "Aren't you forgetting something? There are over a million colonists on that planet down there, just as much your responsibility. They need your help, too."

After the two men left the room, Spock put all the strength he possessed into regaining control. Once that was accomplished, he broke the restraints and left Sickbay, heading for his quarters to dress and then obtain the necessary equipment needed to capture one of the creatures for analysis.

Christine hadn't been surprised at Spock's subsequent actions; she'd probably have done the same thing in his situation. Leonard told her that Spock had gone to the Transporter Room and tried to have himself beamed down to the planet. Scotty had refused to do it, even when Spock ordered him. The engineer said he was sorry he had to disobey, because the Captain had said no one was to beam down under any circumstances. Scott was startled to find himself knocked aside and the transporter officer knocked out with a nerve pinch. Spock had reached for the console to activate the transporter himself, but Scott had gotten to his feet and was holding a phaser on him.

"Freeze right there, Mr. Spock, or I'll put ye t' sleep f'r sure."

The engineer kept a suspicious eye on the Vulcan and a phaser trained on him as he moved to the intercom to call the Bridge. "This is Mr. Scott in the Transporter Room. Get me the Captain."

Five minutes later the Doctor, Captain, and several Security officers entered. Kirk looked accusingly at his First Officer after looking at the transporter technician rubbing his neck and shoulder.

"Mr. Spock, I told you to stay in Sickbay."

Spock's dignity was unruffled. "Until the pain was gone. It has been discontinued—by me."

The Captain looked at his Chief Engineer. "Scotty?"

" 'e said 'e was transportin' down to th' planet, sir. Y'r orders were tha' no one was t' transport down unless you authorized it...an' knowin' Mr. Spock's determination on some things, ah thought ah'd better hold 'im here until ah got y'r orders."

"One of the creatures will have to be captured," Spock said. "We did not have a clear opportunity to do so earlier, when I was attacked."

McCoy frowned. "Jim, I don't like my patients running around. He should be in bed."

Spock gave him a hard look. "Unnecessary, Doctor. As you pointed out, my system is already affected, so I don't believe they could do much more to me. In addition, the fact that I'm here proves that I do not belong in bed."

Kirk nodded thoughtfully. "Mr. Spock, your logic—as usual—is inescapable. All right, Scotty, beam him down...and give him the phaser. He'll need that, too...and Spock, keep in constant touch with us."

Spock moved to the transporter platform. "Thank you, Captain."

The Doctor and Kirk left, the four Security officers in tow. McCoy looked at his superior officer with incredulous anger as they stepped outside and into the outer corridor.

"Jim, that man is sick...and don't give me any damnable logic about him being the only man for the job!"

"I don't have to, Bones. We both know he is." The Captain then left to return to the Bridge.

The next thing Christine knew, Spock had returned from the surface and had started to examine the creature. The Captain and Doctor entered moments later, the latter going over the First Officer's back with his mediscanner. She was glad to see Spock on his feet again, even though she knew as well as McCoy did that he was far from cured. She busied herself with other work as the three men talked.

"Doctor, your medical skill and concern is admirable, but I assure you I'm all right."

"You may be controlling the pain, Mr. Spock, but you're far from all right," the Chief Surgeon threw back.

After that, Christine became so engrossed that she didn't hear any further conversation, but did come back into the room in time to see Leonard give Spock a hard look. The latter looked back at him, raising his brows and widening his eyes in a mixture of surprise and annoyance. She laughed in spite of herself.

A couple of hours later the three came in, McCoy telling her that they planned to place the creature in a test cubicle specially equipped with a bright light to see if that would kill it, since heat and radiation had proved unsuccessful. She carried the specimen into the cubicle and set it down, then the door was closed and everyone handed protective goggles. McCoy flipped the switch.

"Completed," he said after a minute or so.

The cubicle door was opened and they all looked at the specimen jar. The creature was dead. It had worked! The next step was to try it on someone who was infected. McCoy had sent her to do an analysis on the creature's remains so she hadn't known that Spock had volunteered himself until she returned with the results. It turned out that the light had blinded him. He was sitting in a chair staring into space when she came back and handed Leonard the results, then left, unable to take the gloomy atmosphere. However, she did listen in on the intercom.

"Oh, no." McCoy sounded horrified.

"What's the matter, Bones?" Kirk asked.

"I threw the whole spectrum of light at the creature. It wasn't necessary."

There was a shocked silence. "You mean to tell me that Spock need not have been blinded?"

"I didn't need to throw the blinding white light at all. I didn't stop to think that only one type of light might have killed it. Spock, I'm—"

Spock cut off the apology. "It was my decision as well. It is done."

"Bones—" the Captain said tightly; there was a short interval of silence. "Take care of him," he finally said, and left.

Both Nyota and Leonard filled her in on what happened later, of how the ultraviolet satellites had been placed in permanent orbit around Deneva, then activated on the Captain's order. After about 15 minutes, Uhura turned to him.

"I'm getting a message from a ground station. The things are dying, sir. It's working."

Roughly an hour later Kirk turned to Yeoman Jamal. "Record this for Starfleet Command," he told her.

"Ready, sir." She pressed the record button on her tricorder.

"The creatures on Deneva have been destroyed..."

At this point the yeoman looked up and saw Spock enter the Bridge with McCoy on his heels. "Captain, look! It's Mr. Spock!"

Kirk looked up to see his First Officer and friend stride confidently onto the Bridge toward his station, fully sighted.

"You can see," he said simply.

"The blindness was temporary, Jim," the Chief Surgeon smiled. "There's something about his optic nerves that aren't the same as a Human's."

Kirk looked back at Spock. "The brightness of the Vulcan sun has precipitated the development of an inner eyelid, which acts as a shield against high-intensity light," the latter explained. "An hereditary trait, Captain. We tend to ignore it, as you would your own appendix."

With a nod, he continued on to his station and immersed himself in his work as though nothing had ever been wrong.

The Captain leaned against the science console, his arms crossed. "Regaining eyesight would be an emotional experience for most. You, I presume, felt nothing?"

Spock raised his head, giving his friend a level look. "On the contrary; I had a very strong reaction. My first sight was the face of Dr. McCoy bending over me."

The look on the Doctor's face was priceless. "It's a pity brief blindness didn't increase your appreciation for beauty, Mr. Spock."

McCoy leaned on Kirk's chair after the latter returned to it. "Unusual eye arrangement. I might have known he'd turn up with something like that."

The Captain leaned toward him. "What's that, Bones?"

"Please don't tell Spock that I said he was the best First Officer in the fleet."

Spock turned around, raising a pleased eyebrow. "Why, thank you, Doctor."

Kirk laughed at the look on his Chief Surgeon's face. "You were so busy worrying about his Vulcan eyes, Doctor, that you forgot about his Vulcan ears!"

Christine laughed right along with her two closest friends as they told their tales. Life on a starship was proving to be a lot more exciting and worthwhile than she could possibly have imagined. Just how exciting and worthwhile, she could not have known at the beginning—but would know, very soon.

SEVEN 

The most memorable day of Christine's life on the Enterprise occurred on stardate 3372.7 -- or more accurately, that morning at 0600 hours when she arrived for her duty shift. She walked in to find McCoy recalibrating a diagnostic bed, muttering unsavory epithets under his breath.

"What's the matter, Leonard?" She walked up to him.

McCoy sighed. "Just recalibrating this thing, that's all... and having problems with it. But then I always do when I calibrate for Spock."

Christine fought to show nothing but professional disinterest. "Why are you doing that? He's already had his annual physical."

"Well, he's been acting strangely lately—" McCoy began.

"You mean more strangely than usual?" she interjected with a touch of humor.

"I wanted to give him a checkup to see if the cause might be something I can treat," the Doctor finished. "In addition, he's not been eating for the past three days, and seems somewhat short-tempered."

Christine was surprised. "Short-tempered? Spock?"

"Nervous, then?" suggested McCoy.

"In what way?"

"Well, I called him a little while ago and told him I wanted him to come in for a checkup. You'd have thought I'd asked him to have his ears bobbed or something."

"Why? What did he say?"

"Quote - unquote: 'You will cease to pry into my personal matters, Doctor, or I shall certainly break your neck!' "

Christine's eyes were like saucers. "Spock said that?"

"Word for word."

"Unusual," said the nurse.

"That's putting it mildly," McCoy declared. "To top things off, he refused to come...and considering the mood he was in, I thought it best not to press the issue. Otherwise he might have made good on his threat."

"Come on, Leonard," Christine laughed. "Spock wouldn't hurt a fly. He's just a big pussycat."

"Not right now, he isn't," the Doctor contradicted. "At this point, he's just plain not safe to be around. I've even told Jim to tread lightly around him."

"Leonard, are you sure you're not exaggerating just a bit?"

"You'll know what I mean once you have a run-in with him," the Chief Surgeon warned.

Later that day Christine understood what Leonard meant. Having remembered that the latter had told her of Spock's not having eaten for three days, she prepared some plomeek soup for him and was taking it to him in his quarters. She was nearly there when she ran into Leonard and the Captain in the Deck Five corridor.

"Nurse Chapel," McCoy said with a smile and nod.

"Dr. McCoy...Captain." She fought back embarrassment at their scrutiny.

McCoy lifted the top off the soup bowl. "What's this?... Oh, Vulcan plomeek soup—and I bet you made it, too."

Christine felt her face flaming, but managed to sound normal. "Well, Mr. Spock hasn't been eating, and I—just happened to notice..."

McCoy smiled understandingly. "Of course, Miss Chapel. Carry on."

He patted her on the shoulder, then she pressed the buzzer at the First Officer's quarters—barely catching his muttered, "Come in." He looked up at her with a look she'd never seen before...anger. "What is this?"

She was unprepared for his actions once she told him. He picked up the tray and threw it out the door; it crashed against the bulkhead in the outside corridor. Her scream drowned out his first words, but she heard him positively bellowing after her: "...constantly poking, prying...if I want anything from you, I will ask for it!"

Christine leaned against the bulkhead, breath coming fast and her heart pounding. My God, Leonard was right! But unlike him, Spock had gotten violent with her. So unusual—or should she say out of character? -- in a man ordinarily so quiet and gentle. The Vulcan stopped dead upon seeing the astonished faces of the Captain and Chief Surgeon.

"Captain," he said, sounding almost breathless. "I wish to take a leave of absence...on my home planet. On our present course, you can divert to Vulcan with a loss of but 2.8 light-days."

Kirk finally found his voice. "Spock, what's this all about?"

Spock seemed not to hear. "I have given you my request, Captain. All I require from you is that you answer it—yes or no!"

The Vulcan stepped back into his quarters and locked his door before Kirk could make a move to stop him. The two men and one woman looked at each other incredulously, unable to believe that what they had just experienced had actually happened. It seemed like a bad dream, hallucination, or something...but the big question on all their minds was: _What's happened to Spock?_

They were not to learn the answer until the Captain ordered Spock down to Sickbay for a physical after the latter had ordered an unauthorized course change for Vulcan after an urgent communique from Fleet Command to go to Altair Six for the inauguration ceremonies for the planet's new President. Even more strange was the fact that Spock had no memory of having done it—and with his eidetic memory, something had to be wrong. Hopefully this physical would give them the answers they needed to get him back to normal.

After her duty shift was over, Christine found herself heading for Spock's quarters to apologize for having disturbed him earlier. Now that McCoy had explained what was wrong, she could more readily forgive Spock for his actions...having thrown the meal she had brought out the door to crash against the bulkhead and yelling at her to leave him alone. At 2100 hours she reached the door to his quarters, gently pressing the buzzer. No answer. She pressed again. Still nothing. She finally decided to try the door and see if it was unlocked.

Spock didn't usually lock his door, but in his present state of mind was capable of anything, so she had prepared herself for every possible reaction he might make. Heaven knew she didn't need to be run out of his quarters again, especially not if he was bellowing at her. Christine had had no idea he could be so terrifying, or that he had such a temper. It was for that reason that she would make sure to tread lightly and not give him any reason to get angry at her.

She tried the door. It was unlocked, as she expected, but her scruples had not allowed her to take advantage of that fact—even as many times as she could have done just that. It was dark and very warm inside the First Officer's quarters; she moved slowly, carefully, so as not to bump into anything. What little illumination there was, the flame-pot in the corner provided. She could just make out Spock lying on his side on his bed, apparently asleep...but even at that, he should have heard her and answered.

"Mr. Spock?" she called out softly as she approached the bed. "Spock, are you all right?" She wanted more than anything to soothe and comfort him, because something told her that he was in great need of that very thing. However, she would not force her attentions on him. He made no reaction, so she assumed he had gone to sleep. She turned around and headed for the door. A moment later she heard him call to her.

"Miss Chapel?"

"Yes, Mr. Spock?" She turned back to see that he had sat up.

"I had...a most startling dream. You were trying to tell me something, but I couldn't hear you." He frowned upon noticing the look on her face. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Y-yes. The Captain has ordered a course change for Vulcan. I thought you—would like to know as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Nurse. Is there anything else?"

"I…wanted to apologize for disturbing you earlier. I—only meant to..." Her voice trailed off, afraid that she might anger him again.

To her surprise, his voice was as gentle as ever. "I know. I—have not been...myself. Please accept my apologies for my illogical behavior."

"Of course." She continued toward the door.

"Miss Chapel, please wait a moment. I wish to speak to you." He walked up to her; she turned to face him. Spock's voice held an almost husky tone; she gave him a strange look.

"W-what about?"

"I...wish to explain my recent actions."

"No need to apologize. I understand that you're going through a tough time right now." Bolstered by his relative calm, Christine reached a hand to his cheek. "Is there anything I could do to help you through it?"

He closed his eyes and turned away, not speaking.

She closed her eyes in pain and removed her hand, knowing she had overstepped...but he caught her hand and held it. "Christine."

"Yes, Spock?" Unbidden tears filled her eyes and overflowed down her cheeks.

"Your face is wet." He reached out a hand to brush them away. Christine closed her eyes to conceal the thrill that went through her at his touch. "Did I say anything wrong? I am not...experienced where women are concerned, so I am unsure of how to—"

She put a finger to his lips, smiling through her tears. "As I said before, if there is to be anything between us, it will be your decision."

"Christine, do you not agree that it would be illogical to protest against our natures?" He reached to touch her cheek again, brushing away further tears. She had no idea what he was talking about, and said as much.

"I... don't understand."

"There comes a time in every adult, intelligent being's life when he or she...finds it necessary to—take a mate and raise a...family."

She detected a tinge of green in his cheeks and smiled in spite of herself. "You—mean that your... problems and—atypical reactions are due to…your need for a wife?"

He nodded, unable to speak.

"Don't you already have one? I heard that Vulcans are usually bonded in childhood."

Spock nodded again. "But we have... lost touch. We are not as—close as we would ordinarily be due to my being light-years away on a starship."

"So where it does it leave you?"

"It…has become necessary for me to return to Vulcan and go through the _koon-ut-kal-if-fee_, the Vulcan wedding ceremony."

She frowned uncomprehendingly.

"When a couple is 'bonded,' the male is—biologically compelled to return to Vulcan and undergo the aforementioned ceremony. When the…male's time comes, the link triggers a -- 'mating urge,' where he must join with his chosen mate...or die." The Vulcan bowed his head, embarrassed at what he had revealed. Christine understood his silence, imagining what it must have cost him to reveal such a private thing about himself.

"Can—that link be broken?"

"There…are ways of doing so, but they are not—often resorted to."

"Why not?"

"It…is not usually—necessary."

"Would you…like to be—free of it?"

For a long time he was silent; she was sure that he had no intention of answering her because it was too presumptuous a question for one such as her to ask, and therefore didn't rate an answer. At least not a complete one.

"I…would like to be—released from my obligation," he finally admitted. "But it…cannot be legally dissolved except by the—mutual consent of the two parties involved."

"Have you been…able to sense how your—betrothed feels about her…relationship with you? I mean, is there any way for you to tell if she still wants—to...marry you as planned?"

"I—have been unable to sense her presence in my mind, so I would... assume that she no longer—wishes to be...my consort."

"Could the link be—dissolved if you wished to…join with someone else?" Her voice was soft, almost timid.

Spock looked at her intently. "Have you—someone in mind?"

"Well, I..." Christine bowed her head, her face flaming, unable to look at him. Even so, she was sure he knew what she was thinking.

He reached out and lifted her face to his.

"Do not be ashamed, Christine. I am—well aware of the...feelings you bear for me. In addition, I am not...averse to—joining with you. You are quite intelligent, and I find you...very attractive. However, I—am presently unable to do so. It is necessary for me to go through the _koon-ut-kal-if-fee_ before it would be possible for me to…join with another."

"When—is the ceremony supposed to take place?"

"Tomorrow morning. If my betrothed does not wish to...become my consort, she has the option of what Vulcans call _kal-if-fee_, or the challenge. In that way, the link between her and myself may be dissolved and we will be…free to join with others of our own choosing."

"You—mean that this 'bonding' you speak of was not of your own choosing?" The nurse was incredulous.

"It was…performed when my—betrothed and I were but children, seven years of age. Children are not…equipped to choose their future mates so early in life."

Christine frowned thoughtfully. "I can understand that." She stood up and turned for the door. "In that case, I'd better get to bed. I've got to be in Sickbay at 0600."

The Vulcan reached up and gently caught her arm. "Christine, I would like you to return here tomorrow evening at 2200 hours. Will you?"

Her smile answered for her.

"In that case, I will be expecting you at that time so that we may—bond…and if you are willing, perhaps we may also—engage in physical love." He gave her a rare smile. "After all, I will still need a wife."

"I'll be here, Spock."

This time he allowed her to reach the door, but followed her there and once again detained her. "Christine..."

His voice trailed off, then he lifted her face to his once again and their lips met. The nurse's heart pounded almost uncontrollably as the First Officer drew her close; she slipped her arms around his slender waist. Surely this was as close to Heaven as she could get while still alive—to be in Spock's arms, taste his kisses... To think that she would soon know the touch of his mind and have the ability to sense his thoughts and feelings. Best of all, however, no spores were needed to bring them together. After a timeless interlude, the couple released each other.

"I love you," Christine told him when they separated.

He allowed himself to smile at her and touch her cheek. "I will see you tomorrow at 2200 hours." There was a new tenderness in his voice.

"I'll be looking forward to it."

At last she was able to touch, hold and kiss the man she loved! Christine raised Spock's hand to her lips and kissed it before stepping through his door and leaving.

EIGHT 

The Enterprise arrived at Vulcan at 0700 the following morning and assumed standard orbit; Uhura contacted Vulcan Space Central and told them they had arrived.

"Stand by to activate your central viewer, please," a disembodied voice said.

Moments later, the image of a beautiful Vulcan woman came on the screen. Her complexion was flawless, her nose and lips perfectly formed; her eyes were as dark as Spock's and artfully made up. Her long, jet-black hair was immaculate and elaborately styled. The upward sweep of her brows was slightly higher than the First Officer's and her white dress was simple but elegantly beautiful.

Christine came onto the Bridge at that moment, asking McCoy what was going on. He held up a hand to silence her, whispering to her to just watch...which she did.

"She's lovely, Mr. Spock," Uhura said. "Who is she?"

"She is T'Pring—my wife."

Christine had to sternly remind herself of what she and Spock had discussed and shared the previous night…and most importantly, their scheduled rendezvous at 2200 hours this evening.

"Spock, it is I," the beautiful woman on the screen said.

"T'Pring," he acknowledged.

"Spock—parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. I await you."

Christine was hard-pressed to believe that Spock truly intended to give up such a woman for her. Not that she doubted for a moment that he would keep his word, but she was sure that he would at the very least have second thoughts. How could he not? Almost any man worthy of the name would give his eyeteeth to possess such a woman, even a Vulcan…particularly if that Vulcan was also half-Human.

The nurse would have been pleasantly surprised if she could have known Spock's thoughts at this point, even as he prepared to marry another woman and recited the traditional bondmates' greeting prior to marriage: "T'Pring—parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. We meet at the appointed place."

Try as he might, the Vulcan kept seeing the face of the Enterprise's Head Nurse superimposed over that of his betrothed, seeing the love for him mirrored in her blue eyes, the tender smile on her lips whenever she looked at him: a stark contrast to the actions of T'Pring. At best, she had barely tolerated him, particularly when their parents were around. The only time she had showed anything resembling interest was when his future inheritance was mentioned—a vast estate surrounded by several hundred acres of land, as well as a large bankroll. There was a Terran term for one such as her…what was it? Oh, yes: "gold-digger."

_One could put up with a lot to have all that, Spock thought wryly. Even marriage to a half-Human. _

And when they happened to be alone, which was rarely, T'Pring had never bothered to conceal her true feelings. Consequently Spock had been left in no doubt as to the true light in which she regarded him: inferior and beneath contempt because he was not what she considered a "true" Vulcan—and certainly not worthy of her, although the reverse was actually the case. _She_ was the one unworthy of _him_.

Strange how all he could think about was of how Christine had felt in his arms: how warm, soft and fragrant her body was close to his own…and how her lips had tasted. He could still remember how they had felt beneath his own. Spock sensed that Christine had held nothing back when they had kissed, but freely given everything she had to him—just as she made him want to give all of himself, all that he had, to her—all in the fullness of love. _Love?_ he asked himself incredulously. _Yes, love,_ came the answer from deep inside him. Strangest of all was the fact that he was unsure of the source of that revelation. Was it his carefully submerged Human half, or his dominant Vulcan half? Or was the reason for his inability to discern between his disparate halves because both of them loved her?

Christine had no idea how things had gone down on Vulcan until Leonard had beamed back up with an unconscious Kirk. He told her that he had given the Captain some neural paralyzer in the midst of his fight with Spock (initiated by T'Pring, she later learned) in order to simulate death…though he had told even the Captain that it was tri-ox. They gave Kirk the counteragent immediately; he would come out of his death-like trance within 15 minutes—which, as it turned out, was just before Spock entered Sickbay. McCoy told Kirk to keep out of sight until he gave a signal, then come up behind Spock and speak to him. The Doctor couldn't help grinning at his cleverness; he could hardly wait to see the look on the Vulcan's face when he saw Jim alive, especially after he had apparently killed him.

After she went off-shift, Christine prepared for what she hoped would be a romantic evening with the man she loved in spite of the nagging thought that he might not feel it proper to come to her after what had happened on Vulcan. Be that as it may, she still felt certain that Spock would keep his word... and acted accordingly. She turned on some romantic instrumental music and dimmed the lights in her quarters after dressing in a filmy floral gown—all she wore other than a pair of gold slippers and some perfume. Her long hair was styled in a casual but becoming upsweep, which could be taken down easily. She stuck the plomeek soup she had prepared earlier into the ultrawave oven to keep it warm and the tulac (a tangy Vulcan fruit drink) in her tiny icebox, keeping it in readiness for Spock's arrival. Christine smiled wickedly. If her suspicions were correct, he would be needing all the energy he could get!

The buzzer startled her out of her reverie; she looked at her bedside chronometer. 2200. Spock must have come to her after all. The buzzer sounded again, which motivated her to press the encoded button which unlocked the door of her quarters.

"Come in."

She smiled when Spock entered. Her eyes widened when she realized that he was not in uniform, but a long flowing robe with socks and sandals. "I thought you might like to have some more plomeek soup and tulac, so I made more."

The Vulcan nodded slightly with a half-smile. "Thank you. I appreciate that. I meant to ask you for a replacement earlier, but became too involved with our conversation." He moved to the nearby table and seated himself while she fetched the meal, then sat down with a drink of her own and watched him as he ate.

"Spock, what happened on Vulcan?" she asked.

He hesitated before beginning. "I rang the traditional marriage gong, then greeted T'Pau, who was to perform the ceremony. I was about to strike the gong again when T'Pring stopped me by invoking the challenge. T'Pau asked her to choose her champion; for some unknown reason she chose Captain Kirk. I implored T'Pau not to force me to fight him, but she did not listen. In my madness I nearly killed Jim, but the Doctor managed to prevent it by injecting him with what he said was tri-ox compound, but what turned out to be neural paralyzer. For a time, however, I was certain it would be necessary for me to resign."

"I'm glad that didn't happen." Christine smiled as she reached to cover his nearest hand with hers.

"As am I." He allowed himself to return her smile, finishing his meal soon afterward. An awkward silence passed between them; at this point Spock took one of her hands in both of his and gently held it. His voice became quiet, almost seductive.

"I told the Doctor that my fight with the Captain had cured my madness—but that was not entirely true. It was but a temporary respite. It is necessary for us to join mentally and physically in order for my cure to be permanent...for you to satisfy my physical and emotional needs as you have satisfied my need for sustenance." Spock stood up and stepped over to where she sat. "Shall we, Christine?"

He nodded toward her sleeping alcove; she pulled herself up by his outstretched hand and followed him there. He drew her into his arms as soon as they stepped inside. She raised her face to his and locked her arms around his neck as their lips met. His hands stroked her back, moving to press her body close to his while continuing to kiss her. Christine knew it was only a matter of time before they were no longer two but one—and it couldn't come half soon enough to suit her. After a time, his lips reluctantly moved to kiss her neck and throat; she moaned with pleasure when he moved sensuously against her. Her hands found their way to his back and stroked the length of it; he shivered and pressed closer.

"Christine..." His voice was a throaty purr.

"Yes, Spock?"

"I need you." His breath was warm against her ear. "We must join soon."

"Whenever you wish, my love." Her lips nuzzled his neck.

He shivered even as his hands moved to her shoulders and undid the neck-tie of the filmy floral dress. It dropped in a heap around her feet. One of his hands found hers, guiding it to the sash-belt of his robe. With trembling fingers she untied it, then her hands moved to his shoulders and slipped it off. It joined her filmy dress on the floor. The next thing she knew he had swept her into his arms as though she weighed nothing; they held yet another kiss as he carried her to bed. He gently placed her on it; her arms pulled him down to the bed with her.

"I want you," he said against her lips in his native language.

"Spock, my darling..." she murmured against his lips.

He silenced her with another deep kiss, soon possessing her both mentally and physically.

NINE 

Christine awakened cradled in a strong but gentle embrace. She snuggled closer to the warmth of Spock's body, resting a hand on his furred chest as he held her close, her head resting on his shoulder and breathing in the musky scent of him. She smiled as she felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest, beginning to stroke the area of his upper abdomen where his heart was as her mind spoke to him of love. He returned a message of his own as he rested his cheek on the top of her head.

_I love you, Spock.. and you're every bit as wonderful as I've always imagined you were._

_As are you, my 'ainama t'hy'la.' I do not believe I shall ever tire of you._

"Have you been cured?" She opened her eyes and smiled at him.

He allowed himself to return her smile. "Of you, never. Of the madness, yes."

"Does this mean I'll have to wait seven years before we can do this again?" For a long time he was silent, then shook his head. "You mean that Vulcans actually enjoy physical love outside of the Mating Time?"

His cheeks held a slight greenish tinge as he answered. "In that sense, we are much like Humans. The Time of Mating is the time in our lives when the mating urge becomes uncontrollable—though it is always present, as it is with Humans. Ordinarily we keep it under control, only engaging in it at the proper time... when married or bonded. The bonding constitutes a Vulcan marriage; the _koon-ut-kal-if-fee_ is merely a formality."

"Well, that's good to hear. I was hoping that you would be the exception to the rule, considering your background."

"That is usually the case where I am concerned—but not always. And one more thing..." His voice trailed off. "I must ask that you never speak of this to anyone, for it is no one's business but ours. It must remain a secret between us, just as our bonding must remain a secret until I determine the most logical time to inform our friends, my parents, and Starfleet Command. In the meantime we will treat one another professionally—at least while around colleagues."

"But wouldn't it be all right to tell our friends? They have a right to know before anyone else does." Spock sighed dubiously, but had to concede her point.

It was the next evening before Christine seen Uhura. The latter caught up with her friend on her way to her quarters, running to catch up with her. "Chris, wait up!"

Christine stopped in her tracks. "Good to see you, Nyota."

"Where in heaven's name have you been keeping yourself? I haven't seen you in almost three days!" "Well, I've been kind of...busy," the other woman finished, the glow on her face telling the whole story.

"I bet I know who with." Uhura smiled knowingly.

Christine simply busied herself unlocking the door of her quarters; Uhura followed her in. "Come on, Chris, I'm your friend. I have a right to know what you've been up to."

"Need you ask? Can't you guess?" Christine threw back as she shed her clothes and donned a robe, then gathered her toilet articles together prior to taking a sonic shower—then retiring with a good book and her favorite music. After that, she would lose herself in reliving the weekend she had shared with the man she loved.

"Come on, Chris, tell me already! The suspense is killing me!" The urgency in her friend's voice registered, and the nurse laughed.

"I'll say this much. Who do you think could make me this happy?"

Uhura looked disappointed for a moment, than brightened. "Do you mean to tell me--?" Christine nodded happily. The Bantu hugged her friend. "Congratulations! How did you do it?"

"Believe me, it was no cinch...but was worth every moment."

"Well then, when's the big day?"

"We haven't decided yet," Christine evaded. "But don't worry, we will."

Uhura gave her friend a sly wink. "If I know you—and I do—it'll happen as soon as it can be arranged!"

After congratulating her friend again, Uhura took her leave. Christine headed for the bathroom and the aforementioned shower, planning what book she would read and what music she would select for her favorite evening... at least her favorite, failing one with Spock.

The following morning Christine walked into Sickbay and almost directly into Leonard McCoy, who demanded that she tell him just what the hell she had been doing with herself. After her experience with Uhura, she was able to handle her superior with more finesse.

"What's with everybody today, wanting to know where I've been and what I've done? I swear, I've never been so popular in my life!" She gave McCoy a slightly exasperated look. "First Nyota, now you. Do I ask about your private life?"

The Chief Surgeon sighed, reluctantly acknowledging defeat. "Touché, Chris. You win this round... but I'd still like to know what you've been up to. That is, if it isn't too much to ask."

Christine shook her head and sighed herself. "Well, actually, it is—but if it'll get you off my back, it'll be worth it," she teased. "I've been with Spock."

For a moment there was stunned silence, then McCoy made cleaning motions in his ears with a finger. "I've got to clean out my ears. It sounds like you said that you've been with Spock...but you couldn't have been, could you? I was hearing things, right?"

"I was, and you didn't."

"Oh, my God." The Doctor's voice was a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Oh, I believe you, all right. It's just that I'd like to know when all this happened."

"This past weekend. Remember that Spock was going through his Mating Time."

"Yeah. So what?"

"Guess who helped him through it." She was unable to help a superior air.

"So you were the lucky girl. Congratulations. I was wondering how he survived it." He followed her to her desk and watched her pick up that day's patient chart. "If it isn't being too nosy, may I inquire whether or not the two of you were 'bonded'?"

Christine merely nodded in reply.

"Well, do the two of you intend to get married eventually or what?"

"Probably—though I'm not sure just when."

"Knowing you, the sooner the better." McCoy grinned before lapsing back into seriousness. "Does the Captain know about it? After all, he'll be the one to marry you two."

"I'm sure that Spock will tell him in his own time and his own way," Christine said. "Now let's not talk shop. We've got to get down to business."

With that, she became the quintessential example of an efficient Head Nurse, and there was no more personal conversation for the remainder of the shift.

That evening Spock called Kirk to his quarters, saying that he had to speak to him about something very important. The Captain could only wonder at what was so important, particularly after having barely survived the debacle on Vulcan which was to have been Spock's marriage...but which turned out to be the fight of his, Kirk's, life. Kirk arrived at 2335 hours, pressing the buzzer to announce his presence. "Come," Spock said.

The doors opened as Kirk stepped toward them, then silently closed after he stepped through. He found his friend sitting on his bed clad in a long, flowing robe, seemingly in meditation—but knew that the Vulcan was not meditating. He had far too much on his mind.

"Spock?" Kirk called. "I'm here. What did you want to talk to me about? I was getting ready to go to bed."

"I regret interrupting your preparations for sleep, my friend, but I needed to speak with you," the Vulcan apologized.

"How can I help?"

"I'm sure you recall my recent Time of Mating."

Kirk nodded. "What about it?"

"I told Dr. McCoy that the fight with you cured my madness," the Vulcan informed him. "But that was not the—entire truth."

"You mean...?" Kirk asked; Spock nodded.

"So what did you have to do in order to cure it permanently?"

The Vulcan bowed his dark head, blushing in spite of his attempt to control it. "It—was necessary for me to...join physically and mentally with a willing woman in order to survive."

At this point, the Captain realized what his friend was trying to tell him. There were many women aboard ship who were more than "willing" to bed Spock, women who would have taken him on any terms had he approached them—but who was the most willing of all? Kirk almost kicked himself at the obviousness of the answer. Of course...Christine Chapel! It couldn't be anyone else, not from the way he remembered her looking Spock over as though he was a mouse and she a hungry cat when they'd first met. He had no doubt considered her the most 'logical' choice at the time, but Spock was not ruled by logic during the _pon farr_.

"Christine?" he asked tentatively.

Spock nodded, unable to speak.

"So what do you need my help for? Seems to me you've done just fine on your own, up to this point."

All at once it hit him. Spock wouldn't act so embarrassed unless he was emotionally involved. Had his Vulcan friend actually fallen in love with the Head Nurse? It was definitely possible for a Vulcan to fall in love with a Human; Spock wouldn't have been here otherwise.

"Spock, have you...fallen in love with Miss Chapel?" It was a long time before the Vulcan inclined his head. Kirk sighed. "Well, in that case, wouldn't you need to bond with her—then eventually marry?"

Spock slowly raised his head to face his friend. "I...have already done so."

"You've done what? Bonded or married?"

"Both, in a sense. The mind-link constitutes a Vulcan marriage. In most instances, the ceremony on Vulcan is merely a formality, simply a reaffirming of vows already taken."

"So do you intend to go through with that 'formality' any time soon?"

"There is much to be discussed, much to plan and accomplish before the formal ceremony can take place."

"You shouldn't have any problem," Kirk assured him. "After all, you know that Bones and I—not to mention Christine—will do everything we can to help you." Kirk chuckled. "Whoever dreamed that something like this would happen...and to you, of all people—when Miss Chapel first came aboard? Certainly not me. Seriously, my friend, I couldn't be happier for you and Christine. I'm sure she'll make you a wonderful wife and bondmate. Hell, you're too much alike not to be happy!" The Captain laughed even harder upon seeing the look of stunned disbelief on the Vulcan's face. "Well, it's true. I think that even you'd have to admit that."

Spock didn't reply, but Kirk noted that the First Officer didn't contradict him: one reason being that he respected him too much. However, another reason was the fact that what the Captain said was true, and they both knew it. Not to mention the fact that his Human friend often read Spock better than he could read himself…and not only his mind. In spite of his popularity with the female crew, the First Officer had never been sure of himself where they were concerned, and could never be certain whether they liked him for himself or the status they could achieve should they become involved with him.

The only one he could truthfully say that he had ever been sure of was Christine—and in spite of the times that her feelings for him had been downright embarrassing, deep down he was glad to know that someone loved him. It made it easier to get through the days knowing that, however it may have made him feel initially. Which was why when his time came and T'Pring had rejected him as expected, he had chosen Christine to be his bondmate. A Human woman, yes, but one every bit as worthy of being mate to a Vulcan as his mother Amanda. One on whom he could always depend to be there whenever he needed her…and he intended to do the same for her. Maybe he hadn't in the past, but he would now—and for as long as they both lived.

The end…for now

39


End file.
